


Don't Tell Them

by MikaHaeli8



Series: Hidden [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Mary, Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, Consensual Sex, Drunk Sex, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, F/M, Fix-It, Infidelity, M/M, Mpreg, Omega John, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, The Sign of Three Spoilers, not really a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikaHaeli8/pseuds/MikaHaeli8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John ducked into the men’s toilets, John with his back the door.<br/>“What are you talking about? Three? The three of us?”<br/>Sherlock took a deep breath, mouth dry. “John, I think you should take a pregnancy test,”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell Them

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post by consulting-homosexual](http://consulting-homosexual.tumblr.com/post/72364458442/i-immediately-thought-about-an-omegaverse-fic). Also, many thanks to [Ariana DeVere](http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html) for transcribing the episode.
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING: This does also contain one other spoiler for _His Last Vow_.**
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Characters and most dialogue are not mine. Also, self-beta'd, so I apologise in advance for any errors.

“…whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on, I swear I will be there, _always_ , for all three of you.”

A pause followed that, which seemed fleeting to some but lasted a millennium to Sherlock.

“Er, I’m sorry, I mean…I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact, I’ve just miscounted.”

Sherlock breathed in, counting the milliseconds down to the inevitable questions, watching John and Mary exchange a curious look. Eventually, John turned back to him, face creased with lines Sherlock had seen all too often since his return. He didn’t like what they meant.

“Sherlock, can I talk to you for a minute?”

~x~

_Breathless, beer-and-shot-soaked giggles filled the air between John and Sherlock as the distance between them closed. A pleasant sensation buzzed through Sherlock, the kind that spread through every extremity. He wiggled his fingers, attempting to dull the sensation. It was too confusing. This night had been confusing (and irritating, thanks to the man at the pub who had questioned his knowledge of ash). Now, they were playing some kind of game. Rizla. Rizla papers. Something to do with cigarette papers_

_“Yeah, but am I a pretty lady?”_

_Their knees were loosely slotted together. Sherlock hauled himself up and squinted at John’s forehead, the letters seeming to dance on the tobacco paper they were written on. He put his hand on John’s knee to steady himself, his mouth dry._

_“I don’t know who you are.”_

_The words felt wrong coming from his mouth._ I don’t know. _He knew inebriation provided an altered state, but he’d forgotten just_ how _altered his state could be under the control of alcohol. It dulled his senses, made him feel slow and stupid. However, right now, his only concern was to find out who’d come up with this stupid game._

~x~

Sherlock and John ducked into the men’s toilets, John with his back the door.

“What are you talking about? Three? The three of us?”

Sherlock took a deep breath, mouth dry. “John, I think you should take a pregnancy test,”

John exhaled minutely, staring at the detective in disbelief. “How did…”

“Increased appetite, change of taste perception and you were sick this morning, which you attributed to nerves, although this does seem unlike you. Your heat is also delayed – ”

“ _Sher_ lock!” John hissed.

“What? Omega hormones are powerful, even more so before and during oestrus. My suppressants do not dull its detection.”

“Shut up.”

Sherlock swallowed, stumbling over his words. _Keep talking, keep talking._ “I…the…statistics for the first trimester – ”

“Just shut up, alright?”

~x~

_One of Sherlock’s feet, awkwardly positioned on the floor, slipped and caused him to tumble forward onto John’s lap._

_“Whoa, s’okay, I’ve got you,” John slurred._

_“Who came up with th’s…stupid game anyway?” Sherlock grumbled, John’s strong hands holding the detective by his_ biceps brachii _muscles. Or at least, the skin and clothes covering them._

 _“_ You _did. C’mon, on your knees,” John grunted, hauling Sherlock up. The younger man managed to regain enough control over his body to bend his legs and bring them forward, sitting on them, soles digging into his bottom. His hands remained on John’s legs, splayed lightly near his knees. They were firm and strong, no doubt from running after Sherlock on cases. He didn’t want to move his hands, but he knew he couldn’t keep them there, either._

~x~

A knock on the door sounded. “Boys?”

John exhaled, bending double momentarily before straightening up again. The creases of anger and worry on his face had gone, replaced instead by a broad smile.

Sherlock relaxed minutely. _You’re not angry_ , a voice chanted joyfully in his head. _You’re not angry, thank God, I can’t have you angry at me_ again.

John opened the door a crack. “Ah, Mary.”

“Everything alright here?”

“Fine, fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“ _Well_ – ” Sherlock began, but he was cut off by a furious gesture from John.

“Well? Well what?”

John exhaled through his nose and opened the door fully, letting himself out.

“One more deduction I didn’t expect to make,” Sherlock remarked as he followed John.

“One more deduction?” Mary questioned, looking between the men.

“Yes, John’s – ”

“Sherlock, _please_.”

Sherlock held his hands up in surrender.

“Yes. One more.” John inhaled deeply. “I’m pregnant.”

~x~

 _The rational side of Sherlock’s brain chose to wake up at that moment._ What am I doing? He’s getting married soon, and not to me. Back away. Back away from him now.

_“Sh’lock…”_

_“John.”_

_Sherlock stilled. It was amazing how one syllable could contain someone’s entire world; ground them; bring them back to stability and sense. Sherlock had always dismissed this kind of poetic nonsense, deeming it to be solely for the sentimental. The last three years had changed his opinion on this. Whatever he did, wherever he went, it all came back to this one man, someone he’d always privately referred to as a conductor of light. Someone he’d loved. Someone he loves._

_Soon, it would be too late._

_John’s head drooped. Almost instantly, Sherlock sat up and grabbed John’s face between his hands, quicker than his dulled reflexes would allow him to believe. Maybe he_ wasn’t _that drunk after all._

_“Nuh?” John murmured, sound and cheeks squashed by Sherlock’s long-fingered hands._

_“We should…maybe go bed,” Sherlock suggested, slurring only slightly._

_“Mmm. Yes. Bed. Good.”_

_Neither of them made any move towards the stairs. Sherlock’s gaze raked John’s face, whilst John’s hands rested feather-lightly on Sherlock’s waist. All Sherlock had to do was lower his head a few inches to meet John’s forehead with his. The idea was more tempting than he’d ever let on._

~x~

Mary’s face lit up. “You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby?”

John smiled. “According to Mr Human Pee-Stick, yeah. Though how did he notice before _me?_ I mean, one, I’m a doctor, and two, it’s my bloody body!”

The bride pressed a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” Sherlock urged.

“I’m pregnant – I’m not panicking,” John clarified quickly.

“Well I am!” Mary almost shouted.

Every single Alpha instinct Sherlock had was telling him to back off, but the non-animal part of his brain insisted he stay to calm the situation. “Really, there’s no need to panic. Absolutely none.”

John gave him a look. “You’d know, would you?”

~x~

_Sherlock closed the remaining distance between their faces and kissed John tentatively, expecting fury; expecting to be pushed away; anything but John pulling him close and kissing him back clumsily, pressing himself against the Alpha so that their groins were flush against each other. John moaned into his mouth and bucked his hips, driven by drink, instinct and resurrected desire._

_It was then that Sherlock smelt it, the faint scent slamming into him. John’s heat was due in a few days, and Sherlock knew he should_ really _back away; the Omega was not his to take (_ never had been because you screwed it all up, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, you were oblivious or ignored it completely –)

_Sherlock silenced the scolding voice in his head (which sounded disturbingly like Mycroft) and focused his attentions on what his and John’s bodies were doing. John’s was screaming with need; the pre-oestrus period was always a warm-up for what was to come, thus a diluted version of the heat itself. John broke the kiss, grabbing at Sherlock’s clothes._

_“What?”_

_“Sh’lock,_ please _. Need you. In me.”_

_Sherlock frowned. “Are you sure?”_

~x~

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Sherlock gestured to the pair of them. “Look at you. Already the best parents in the world. You’re hardly going to need me around now that you’ve got a _real_ baby on the way,”

The newlyweds chuckled, Mary looping an arm around her husband’s waist. The twin scents of both their bond and pregnant John hit Sherlock’s nose at the same time, causing the alpha in him to whine. _That’s_ my _baby in there. Mine._ I _should be there when you give birth to him or her,_ not  her _._

He caught John’s eye. The doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly. _Don’t talk about that night_ , his expression stated. _Don’t. I never want her to know._

~x~

 _The sighed, pleading ‘yes’ that followed was all the permission Sherlock needed. He wrenched his coat off his arms and slipped between the Omega’s legs once more, needing to be flush against him. He kissed him repeatedly, biting his bottom lip a couple of times – which provoked a groan out of John – weaving_ I’m sorry _and_ I love you _into his kisses. John grabbed Sherlock’s belt buckle and pulled their groins close again, frotting in desperation, the friction not going unnoticed on Sherlock’s part._

_“I understand,” Sherlock breathed into John’s mouth, fumbling for his belt buckle and the buttons on his jeans, thoroughly incapable of thought. He pulled his trousers and pants down, freeing his cock, which was already rock-hard and red._

_John’s eyes flicked down to it and moaned upon sight, his own arousal uncomfortably obvious. Sherlock pushed his trousers and pants down to his knees, providing a cushion for them, before attending to John’s own garments._

~x~

“Dance,” Sherlock said suddenly, not sure how to break the awkward silence that seemed to have developed between the three of them.

“Mm?” Mary hummed, frowning in confusion, arm still around her husband’s waist.

“Both of you, go and dance. We can’t stand around here all night. People will be wondering what we’re talking about,”

John nodded brusquely. “Right.”

“What about you?” Mary asked, genuine concern written on her face.

“Well, we can’t all three of us dance,” John laughed. “There _are_ limits, after all!”

“Indeed,” Sherlock concurred softly, eyes meeting John’s again. _Go. Go forth into your new life with a lie between your hips._

“Come on, husband. Let’s go,” Mary chimed in.

~x~

 _John’s trousers and pants were off quicker than Sherlock had managed with his own, though he wasn’t sure how. The pre-oestrus scent hit Sherlock hard as soon as John’s bottom was exposed and it was all he could not to just_ dive _in there and tongue-fuck him until he was screaming –_

 _“Sherlock,_ now! _”_

_Sherlock positioned himself over John, fingers brushing briefly over the Omega’s soft opening. Relieved to feel that John was already well-lubricated, Sherlock bore down, lips meeting John’s as he pressed himself into the older man._

_The wet-heat-caused pleasure was so intense that for a moment, Sherlock thought he’d blacked out. However, he did manage to regain some control of himself_ (John, John, it’s John that wants you right now, attend to him) _and moved, eliciting a wail from the older man, who broke the kiss to throw his head back against the back of the armchair._

 _“Faster, please, god, fuck,_ Sherlock, _” he begged, voice gravelled from lust and alcohol, and Sherlock complied, pounding into him so hard he was sure he’d leave bruises in the morning, fingers curling, nails digging into John’s shirt. He bent his head down and felt John’s fingers grip onto his scalp, pulling his hair, which only served to arouse him further. A growl tore from his throat and his mouth immediately ventured to John’s neck, licking and grazing the delicate skin on there even as the familiar heat built up in his groin._

_“Oh God, Sherlock, I’m about to –”_

_“John,” Sherlock breathed, sucking hard as his orgasm hit, pulsing through him. John’s hit him at the same time, cries of “Sherlock” and pleas of “fill me up, yes, yes, that’s_ it” _reaching his ears. Once Sherlock was sure he’d stopped, he withdrew, feeling the base of his cock. He was relieved to see he hadn’t knotted._

_He looked at John, who had fallen asleep, semen leaking from his used hole. Sherlock yanked his pants and trousers back up before waking John up and helping him to bed, flushed. He hoped against hope that John would remember what had happened the next morning and take a morning-after pill._

~x~

Sherlock watched the happy couple go off to dance with their guests, waiting until the crowd swallowed them up. He went back to the stage where he had performed the piece written especially for them, folding the single-page manuscript and sliding it into a labelled envelope. He left it on the stand and made his way through the crowd, spotting the back door. He had to get out and back to the quiet solitude of Baker Street. He had a companion, and he knew exactly where it was, given that he had bought it for this particular day.

_Don’t look back._

He went to the cloakroom and was handed his coat, nodding a vague thank you to the man behind the counter. Stepping outside the hall, he pulled his coat tightly around him and flipped up the collar, Alpha instincts roaring at him to _get back to your baby_.

He ignored them, forcing himself to walk away from the music, light and celebration that he wasn’t and would never be a true part of.

_Sentiment. How ridiculous it was._

Mycroft was right. Though he'd never know.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm stunned at the response this has received, so I'm making this into a three-part series. The next one will be called either _Don't Tell Him_ or _Don't Tell Her_ , depending on how well I feel this part connects with the next, and should be out in the next couple of months.
> 
> If you want to translate this, by all means, go ahead. Just let me know that you've done it and link it if possible when it's completed :) it's already been done in [Chinese](http://221dnet.211.30i.cn/bbs/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=5059&extra=page%3D1) by the wonderful [PapayaTwilight](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/5967304) (external link, so I linked to the login details).
> 
> Thanks once again.
> 
> ~Mika


End file.
